Under a New Light
by Affinity Wolfe
Summary: George doesn't socialize much after his twin died in the war, but as a pranking war and new friendship builds between himself and the goody girl Hermione, he begins to feel like there should have been more than just him and Fred their entire lives.
1. Chapter 1

George was unresponsive. It always seemed that way the long days, weeks, months after the war. After the death of his twin brother, Fred, his other half, his closest friend, the Gred to his Forge, the brains behind most of their greatest pranks and products. He couldn't look in a mirror, couldn't sleep in his old room, and could barely stand to see any of the classic Weasley sweaters, always hoping an F would be among them.

For the first four months everyone around him let him mourn, at the strict orders of Molly Weasley. She didn't want somebody to say the wrong thing and depress him more. Then, after that it was just difficult to see him still so hurt, never talking, never cracking a smile. Everyone lost Fred that day, but it was killing George, it seemed. It wasn't until a full eight months later, when Harry and Hermione moved into the Burrow, that they started to try and get the old George back.

Ron, who had taken over Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, would often bring home products to prank George, or someone else in attempt to get his brother to smile. All George did for the first two weeks was ignore them. Then, as he started to find them in his room and things, he would begin to get angry and throw the toys or fireworks at Ron, not even trying to prank him back. It often got Ron in trouble with Molly, who would order the youngest son to stop as George walked away, usually to be gloomy by the lake out back.

"It's bloody depressing, that's what." Ron murmured to Hermione and Harry after getting a good reaming from his mother for turning Ginny's hair purple the moment George came in the room. He was a much moodier version of himself, Ron, because he wasn't used to the forever looming cloud over the Burrow. They all missed Fred, but this was ridiculous.

Harry almost agreed, until Hermione scolded Ron. "Ronald, that's incredibly rude. It's only been a few months. It's all fine and dandy that you can smile again, but Fred wasn't your twin, you weren't with him for all but five seconds your entire life." She berated him.

And the moment Fred's name slipped through her lips she began to tear up. Not actually cry, but felt that prickle in her eyes, her heart growing heavy. Taking in a deep breath she suppressed it and got up from her chair. She went into the kitchen, Harry and Ron staring after her.

"She's probably right." Harry shrugged, staring at the floor. Ron wouldn't complain because he felt this horrible pressure in his chest at Hermione's words, and he wondered if that was how George always felt.

At the sound of the faucet, the two boys stood up and followed Hermione. She was just sitting at the table with a glass of water when they came in. Harry just sat and grabbed a discarded _Daily Prophet_ from Arthur's usual seat, while Ron went about scrounging for food. That sat in a comfortable, yet moody silence for a few moments, the only sounds being Ron eating leftover soup and Hermione's occasional sipping, then putting her glass down.

It was when Harry and Ron started discussing one of the latest quidditch games, between the Falmouth Falcons and the Pride of Portree, that George finally came back from his walk to the lake. As he opened the door, the fabric of Harry's invisibility cloak fell from above it, revealing an already tipping bucket. Water poured down heavy on George, the plastic bucket falling just to the left of him.

The last remaining twin stopped, red in the face and growing more frustrated. "Ron, enough! Just for today, just leave me the hell alone!" He full on snapped, for the first time. It was scary, nearly, making the two confused boys looks distraught, while Hermione just sipped her water.

"It wasn't me!" Ron's voice cracked in horror under the glare of his brother. He was being honest, he was shocked to see the scene, and Harry couldn't defend him, for he was surprised as well, wondering how his cloak had become involved in this prank.

Before George could yell more, and as Molly scurried in the room, hearing the ruckus, Hermione stood. "It was me." She admitted with a newly borne look of amusement on her face.

Every body stared at her, then at George, and back. George, however, stood there, fists clenched, but glare fading. He let out a heavy, harsh breath, closing his eyes for a moment, before he opened then. The blue orbs, for the first time in months, held life.

"You're on. Better watch out, Granger." He threatened with this very Slytherin-esque smirk and then apparated from the room. By the echoing crack everyone knew he had simply gone upstairs.

Silence was still strong in the kitchen, before Molly placed a hand on her chest. "Thank the heavens!" She practically yelled out.

With that exclamation everyone witnessing suddenly realized what this meant.

George would prank again.

And Hermione, the future target, just calmly sat down.

"Bloody hell, woman, are you out of your mind?" Ron squeaked in an odd manor, now worried for one of his best friends' safety.

For once, Molly couldn't care less about the prank and just waltzed over to Hermione. "How'd you get him to do that? None of Ron's jokes worked."

One again, all eyes snapped to Hermione. She was nervous as all get out, but refused to show it.

"Just before Fred and George came out with the skiving snack boxes and Canary Creams, we sort of came up with a treaty." She began to explain slowly, wondering if she could trust her voice to tell the whole story. "Fred agreed that if I didn't tell anybody, since I was prefect, they wouldn't pull pranks on me again. The treaty breaks the moment one of us pranks or rats on the other. He also said that if I break it, I better be prepared for hell, because neither of them would want to miss the chance to prank me."

She wiggled in her seat, a bit self conscious under all those stares. "I wasn't sure it still counted now, but it was worth a shot." She concluded.

Then there was a muffled banging, much like an explosion, from above all of their heads.

"Oh Merlin, he's actually plotting." Ron blurted.

Harry smiled, a bit sympathetically, at Hermione. "Sorry, Mione." He meant about her inevitable doom.

"It's for the best." She shrugged and got up to leave the room. Somehow, she safely made it to her room, Percy's old room, just across the hall from George's room, and he hadn't even noticed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

There was a chemical smell filling George's room, but he hardly noticed. He was far too busy concentrating on scrawled notes, cast the occasional spell on a brewing potion. The treaty between prefect and twins was over, and if George was going to got Hermione back, he wanted to get her good. With something new, unseen, something great. As he worked on the prank, there was always a whole in his heart a bit larger than usual, one that knew Fred should be there as well, but it also distracted him from wishing for such as often.

He didn't realize it, but it was incredibly healthy for him. To do something other than mope, and actually eat, even if he was only eating to get the aftertaste of chemical filled air out of his mouth. George even spoke more to his mother now, without even realizing it, asking her if she could tell Ron to get something from the shop. Of course he always heard Molly yelling at Ron to do it "or else" just minute later.

A full week and a half after Hermione had doused him with water, the potion was ready, and perfect for pranking. Casting a quick notice-me-not charm on a vial of perfectly clear, tasteless liquid, he quietly left his room with it. He went down the stairs, staying on the stairs, just hidden from view on the second floor. He peered into the living room. Hermione was there, talking to Ron and Percy, holding a steaming cup of hot cocoa in her hands.

Smirking to himself, George took out the vial, and levitated it over them. As careful as possible, right after Hermione had taken a sip, he tipped the potion into her drink, then levitated the vial out of the way. All that was left was to sit on the stairs and wait. Not long, of course, because in another few seconds, Hermione took a sip, and went completely invisible.

* * *

><p>Percy had stopped by for lunch, and ended up explaining to Hermione that if she was willing to take her NEWTs, there was a new, very wonderful position open in the legal department. She was highly interested, indeed, considering it was a position solely for those interested in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical creatures. It heavily aroused the side of her that had created S. P. E. W.<p>

Ron was his usual self, butting in that Hermione didn't need to get a job so quickly after school, considering the grant that the Ministry had given all of them for their bravery in the war. He really just didn't want to lose Hermione, Percy thought, while Hermione considered the fact that her friend didn't like the idea of them all growing up.

"Oh, cut it out, Ronald. I need some sort of income if I ever want to move out of the Burrow, don't I?" She swung a light kick at him, barely tapping the side of his knee.

As he began his complaint, she took a sip of her delicious cocoa. "But 'Mione, mum loves you. You never have to move out." He stated and looked at her, away from Percy. This awe struck expression stole over his face, followed by confusion. Even Percy looked wondering.

"Where'd she go?" Percy bumbled like an idiot, looking around the room like she may be under the couch.

Hermione, not feeling any different, and confused herself, stared at the two in annoyance as they called her name and looked about. "What on Earth are you two talking about? I'm right here." She stated, sitting tall, not being affected by their immature jokes.

They appeared to not have heard her, and Ron got up. "She couldn't have apparated, could she? I'll check her room." He stated and began to move to the stares, peeking in the kitchen as he passed.

"What is going on?" Hermione growled in frustration and stood, placing her mug on the short table. A moment later, not even a whole second later, Percy was staring at her.

"Where'd you go?" He asked her. It caught Ron's attention, and he turned back to the pair.

She let out this angry, disgruntled sound. "Nowhere! I was right here." She pointed at the couch and flopped quite ungracefully back down.

Ron came back, giving her a look. "No, you disappeared after you said you wanted to move out." He told her in quite a convincing manner.

Lifting her hands in a partial surrender, simply to save herself the migraine, Hermione stopped them both. "Fine, whatever, I disappeared, it's over." She summed things up quickly. "And, Ron, I have to move out at some point."

"But you've only just moved in a few weeks ago." He countered.

Four weeks to be exact, as of that very day. For almost an entire month she had been living in another family's home simply because she found her own parents to be very, though they tried to hide it, scared of Hermione. It wasn't right either way.

"Yes, and I promised your mother that I would only be here for maybe three months. I need a job to get my own place, and pay her back for the money she spends to feed and extra person." She lectured quite responsibly, the stern, adult look a bit ruined as she picked up her pink mug again.

Distracted by Percy, she didn't take a sip, simply letting the warmth seep into her palms. "Yeah, Ron, Hermione isn't the type to work a joke shop for barely any pay and have no plans for her future." Percy mocked his brother.

"Hey, I have plans!" Ron turned a wonderful shade of rose as he glared at the only just accepted family member. "I'll save my money, probably, and find myself a really sporting girl I came move in with."

Hermione laughed. "That's a horrible plan." She chuckled and then took a deep sip of her drink.

Ron, who had been glaring at her, suddenly went wide eyed and swiveled his head around. "What the hell. Percy, tell me I'm not crazy." He threw his arms out in a useless gestured to the room. "Where'd she go?"

"I have no clue." Percy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in slight frustration.

"Not this again!" Hermione shrieked and immediately got up. She placed her drink down again and walked over to Ron. "Come on, Ron, we all know you can see me, it's not funny."

To prove that it was anything but, she gave her friend a lovely smack. Ron jumped up and Percy looked over at him. "SOMETHING HIT ME." Ron squealed.

The way he was still looking around, didn't move when she had slowly gone to hit him, made Hermione finally believe that they couldn't see her, or, apparently, hear her. As they looked around for her, Ron freaking out as he went into the kitchen, Hermione looked around as well. Her eyes swept the room, the walls, the couch, until she spied feet on the stares, jumping out of view as Ron went towards them

_George_. It registered in her mind quickly that this was his retaliation. Now, how to stop it. First she needed to figure out if it was a spell, or if he had triggered something, or if it was a potion. She started to look around the area she sat, trying to locate anything odd, or a magical signature. Her eyes may have caught nothing, but her bare foot did. Something oddly vile shaped.

As she picked it up, the enchantment on it faded. An empty vile, with a charm on it? Potion. Hermione glared at the pink cup of hot cocoa.

"Hermione!" Ron suddenly yelled and she turned to the sound. She must have been visible again because he was jogging slightly to her, grasping her arm. "You need to quit doing that."

She nodded. "I don't know what I'm doing." She claimed, even though she now understood what she was inadvertently doing.

They all sat back down, Percy claiming his dislike for such ridiculousness, while Ron tried to sit a bit closer to Hermione on the couch they shared. Once more, Hermione lifted the pink mug, deliberately drinking down that last half of her drink.

This time when she disappeared she ignored the two with her and jumped to her feet. Since apparently nobody could here her, she didn't try hard to muffle her steps as she went to the stares. George was there, staring in amusement at Ron having a fit and Percy shaking his head, pinching the bridge of his nose with stress.

Vengeful, Hermione sneaked up to George, preparing her hands near his arm. In one quick pull, she grabbed him and dragged him down the stairs, making sure he didn't fall, but counting on his stumbling. As soon as he was on the first floor fully, she knocked him over onto his back, and jumped on top of him so that he couldn't move.

"Lovely potion, making me invisible and making it so nobody can hear me." Hermione mused mostly to herself, since everybody was now worrying over George, who appeared to have suddenly fallen. This, of course, finally drew Molly into the room, worrying about her son. "Actually very imaginative."

Of course her compliment was unheard as George struggled. She just pushed her hands onto his and held them against the worn out carpet. In a crude bit of payback she purposefully drooled, not at all caring that her saliva fell onto George's left cheek. He could suffer.

"Repulsive! Did you just spit on me?" George yelled out at Hermione, being the only one who knew she was there. He frantically turned his head, wiping his face on his shrugged shoulder.

Laughing, Hermione bent down and shook her head, the very tips of her wild hair tickling George's neck. At first he looked incredibly uncomfortable, jaw clenched, Suppressing either more curses or, though unlikely, laughter. He wriggled more, managing to offset her, but Hermione only better straddled the boy, shrieking slightly when one of his hands got free and swatted at her hair.

Both were so caught up in either torturing or getting away, that the family trying to help, worriedly calling his name, went ignored. Then, finally, as Hermione trapped George's fingers between hers and held him hostage again, hair still tickling him, he opened his mouth. A slight chuckled came out, his face barely holding a smile, but it was still a laugh.

Hermione stopped her assault of him, laughing as well, but still held him down. Her laugh was the first thing everyone else heard before she reappeared, right on top of George.

Needless to say, the entire present family was beyond confused.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Dinner that night, George actually joined, looking deadpanned as ever, but he wasn't the same brooding man, just sitting there, he just wasn't laughing anymore. Molly explained the absurd scene the two had earlier, claiming Hermione was completely invisible the whole time. When Arthur asked how this came to be, Hermione filled in the part about it being a prank on her, that nobody could see or hear her. Then, she turned to George.

"And because you couldn't hear me, you didn't hear a single lovely word I said about the potion before I decided to torture you." She hinted at her previous compliments, trying to get George to join the conversation, maybe even fish for an ego boost. He said nothing, just slightly nodded, so she turned back to Arthur. "It was actually quite brilliant. He slipped it into my hot cocoa, and the reaction was quite instantaneous. Last for a minute or so, depending on how much you drink."

Arthur looked impressed as well, eyebrows raised. "Well, that seems quite handy! Tell me, George, do you plan on making it available in the shop?" He asked, almost looking as if he _wanted_ a bit of that potion.

"Bad idea." George mumbled, but the whole table heard him well enough. Ron, just thinking of the havoc he could make without having to borrow Harry's cloak, began to complain.

Hermione sent him a stifling glare that suppressed the rest of his whining. "George is right. You never know what people truly intend to use it for. Crimes could be committed." She pointed out while stabbing at her asparagus. "What I think you should do, Georgie, is sell it to the Aurors. It could be quite handy when in need of a quick escape or upper hand."

The only person who didn't notice Hermione calling George by the nickname long avoided, was Hermione herself. She didn't realize it slipped from her mouth. She had never called him as such before. In fact, only Fred and the teasing family members had ever even uttered _Georgie_ in place of his real name. At one point, before Hermione moved in, George even snapped at Ginny for saying it, so everyone thought she was suddenly naive and would get a verbal lashing.

But George didn't react to it, other than to look up and stare at her. Wriggling his jaw a bit, in what was his deemed thinking face, the man simply shrugged. "Guess so. I'll send an owl." He murmured and shoved a chunk of potato into his mouth.

Conversation was excruciatingly normal after that. Harry talked about his short broom ride around the country side. Arthur spoke about work, which was nearly the same every single day. Molly expressed her excitement as to how well Ginny was doing in school, to which the love struck Harry listened to fervently. Hermione scolded Ron for talking with his mouth full as Ron tried to goad George into giving him some of that potion. Then, lastly, at the corner of the table with an empty seat next to him, George said nothing and occasionally gazed to his right.

Supper soon ended and everyone went off to continue their own nightly things, from whatever seemed interesting at the time, to whatever it was that was ritual. Hermione, personally wanting to just avoid another work talk with Ron and Percy, went up to her room. Not until she reached her door did she realize George was half a step behind her, going to his own room.

Her hand jet out before he could even open his door and she held his fingers gently in hers. "Hey, sorry for drooling on you." She meant that much. Is was a gross fact that she had done as much.

"No worries, I'm just going to melt off the left side of my face." He gestured to the very cheek with the hand that wasn't held hostage.

Hermione chuckled. "And ruin that face?" She countered teasingly. Despite his lack of enthusiasm, Hermione was glad that he at least joked.

George raised one eye brow, but that simple gesture held a great deal of seduction, Weasley style. "What? Would you miss these devilishly good looks?" He added.

"Oh." Hermione winced playfully. "Better yet, that might be an improvement. Melt away."

"Only if you stop wearing that tumbleweed on your head." George debated before copying her wince. "Oh wait, that's just your hair."

A thoroughly offended scoff came out of Hermione's mouth. "How incredibly tactless! And right when I was about to complement that mask you have on - oh, no, it's just your face."

The full on verbal scuffle continued for a another minute on clothes, hair, smell, and multiple body parts. In the end it was Hermione who had noting left to say, running out of things to complain about. In desperate thought for something new, ten seconds ticked by before she sighed.

"Forfeit." She claimed and blushed ferociously when she realized she still held his hand. Discreetly, she pulled away and backed towards her door. "See you in the morning, George."

This time, he stopped her by saying her name. "Don't tell anyone, because I think I'll go mental if you do, but I'm okay if you want to call me Georgie." He claimed quietly before ducking into his room.

Going into her own sanctuary, Hermione was slightly confused. It was a full twenty minutes later, as she was reading her book, that she realzed she _had_ called him Georgie in the middle of dinner. It was unintentional, but, apparently, allowed.

* * *

><p>The next two weeks George went back to his ways. Not eating with everyone, not really talking, getting annoyed and going on walks. The only difference was that now, around ten when everyone was sleeping, Hermione would knock on George's door, bringing with her something sweet from her very secret stash of Honeydukes candy and homemade baked goods. The only reason it was a secret stash was because Hermione had a feeling that if anyone (aka, Ron) came to know of it, they would eat it.<p>

The first time they did it had been pure incident. Two days after the prank, George was walking to the bathroom as Hermione was leaving it. Not the greatest time to ask someone if they feel like having a lolly or some brownies together, but somehow Hermione blurted it out. She literally was stared at like an escapee patient from ward 49 of St. Mungo's.

Still, George agreed, doing his business while an embarrassed Hermione went to her room. She brought her tin of fresh brownies (kept good with a very handy charm) and a few flavors of lollies.

She met him outside his door with hands full, staring at her toe kicking the floor beneath her. George opened the door and pulled her in. "You could have gone in without permission." He suggested after the fact.

"Excuse me for being polite." Hermione mentioned, avoiding the fact that the only boys whose rooms she had entered were Ron and Harry's. It was almost nerve wracking to be in his then.

The who time, she sat on the floor while George sat on his bed, refusing to acknowledge his suggestion for her to join him, and not ever glancing at Fred's bed. She simply placed all the lollies and the browning on the bed near them both and took a strawberry lolly for herself. George began with a brownie, then discovered his love for blueberry lollies after that.

They talked for a while about their favorite candies and flavors or ice cream, then moved on to the topic of socks. Fluffy socks, slipper socks, short and long and colored socks. By eleven thirty, George was on the ground with Hermione, wearing her very fluffy purple socks while she was slipping her feet into his stretched out, thread bare, black socks that were floppy on her petite feet.

George had cracked a few smiles, small ones mostly at his own jokes, but seeing Hermione wiggle her feet in the air with his socks flopping about made him laugh. A real laugh, much longer than his brief chuckle when she tickled him, and deeper still. She laughed as well, in that tiny, dark room, and somehow stayed until she was leaning heavily against George's bed, trying to fight off sleep.

She hadn't noticed that George was doing the same in their whispered conversation until they both fell momentarily silent and hit heads. Then, George groaned and pushed himself up from the floor. He held his hands out for Hermione.

"Time to go to bed." He barely said through a yawn as he helped her up. Hermione nodded and grabbed her brownie tin, the few lollies already eaten up, and was off to her room.

At breakfast the next morning they both came down, George to find something to take to his room, and Hermione to sit with Harry and Ron. Only then did they both realize they were still wearing the other's socks. Hermione smirked, pointing down, and George let out a monosyllable of a laugh before they switched.

Every night since, they met in George's room, Hermione stocked with candy. Not until the fourth night did he finally convince her to sit up on the bed with him. It was much more comfortable, Hermione admitted, as she laid out her nightly goods. As always, it was different than previously, except for a blueberry lolly and a strawberry lolly.

Then a week had past and they were growing much more comfortable with each other.

"So," George began as he picked up some sort of cookie. Peanut butter, he determined, as half way to his mouth he smelt it. Just fine with him, too. "When are you going to prank me back, because if you do it with food, well, I'm sure I'd fall for it."

Truthfully, Hermione had been plotting, but how do you really prank the master prankster. "Um, I don't know. It'll probably be a spell, I'm trash at creating my own potions." She told him.

The man didn't really react, devouring the rest of his cookie. "So," He began again, same tone and everything. "Did you know that Ron's got the hots for you?"

In surprise, Hermione accidentally let her lolly fall out of her mouth and it landed on her pajama top. "Bollocks." She swore and picked it up, then turned a hauty glare on George. "He does not. We're friends."

"Yeah, you _are_ friends. That doesn't mean you'll _stay_ friends." George pointed out as he watched her inspect her lolly for any slight molecule of lint before plopping it back in her mouth.

She wouldn't give George the satisfaction of thinking that she and Ron would be together. "It won't happen. He's not my type, really. Even if he did like me - which he doesn't - I can't feel for him as anything but a friend." She stated stubbornly, hoping the argument would end there.

It hadn't. "No, it's fate. He's the only guy you ever are seen with other than Harry, who's got my sister, and he is panting over you like a dog. It's bound to happen."

"Repulsive." Hermione stated at his analogy. "And he is not the only guy I've ever been around."

"Let's pretend I believe that. You're what? Nineteen? Have you even been kissed, Hermione?" George nudged her and said with a new humor in his voice that went unnoticed as Hermione suffused at the subject matter.

Her shoulders were tense as she responded. "Of course I've been kissed!" Her reaction was torrent and stern.

George thought for but a moment. "Oh, can't forget Viktor Krum. What? First and last kiss?" He further teased.

"He was not my first, nor my last!"

This was getting interesting. George hadn't even meant to get into such a deep conversation about her past love life, just rile her up about Ron, but now he wanted to know more. It was just this nagging curiosity that wanted to know names, details. He hadn't felt such things since sneaking around with Fred, their seventh year at Hogwarts, trying to pull their newest pranks or find some good gossip. It felt _good_.

"So who was your last kiss?" He pondered out loud, turning towards Hermione as she shamefully sucked her lolly. After a moment of hesitation she pulled it out of her mouth.

"If you must know, it was Cormac McLaggen." She responded quietly, but not whispering. Just quiet, like how someone would say something they didn't exactly wish to admit. "Sixth year, at the Slug Club Christmas party. He's incredibly repugnant, as well."

George was amused but kept it held in. It wasn't funny, just interesting, considering most thought that Cormac was a catch, back when George was in school. "Alright, and who was your first kiss?" He continued.

She stiffened a bit more. "No, you can't know." She then mumbled, her quietest statement yet, before shoving the lolly in her mouth to avoid talking.

Oh, now George had to know. And he would get the answer one way or another.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Tell me."

"No, go away."

George frowned. "Was it Harry? That's sick."

Hermione swatted at him. "No, just leave it alone." She stated, words obscured by the candy in her mouth.

"It was Ron, wasn't it? You minx!" George goaded on, ignoring everyone of her pleas to, kindly, shut up.

She looked further repulsed. "Merlin, no. He had the emotional range of a teaspoon in fourth year." She claimed and settled against the wall, her feet dangling over the edge of the bed.

Hermione didn't realize she had revealed any sort of information until George spoke again. "Fourth year, huh? Was it Cedric Diggory? Did he cheat on Cho Chang for you?" He concluded next, looking quite serious about it.

"No." Denied again. Hermione was a bit frustrated now. "George, stop asking, or I'm going to have to leave."

That did not sway him one bit. It just urged him on more, wanting to see her try. "Oh! Was it a girl?" He smirked wildly.

Hermione stood up and was going for the door, not caring that she was leaving behind all of her sweets she had brought. George, however, was not letting her and jumped up after, shoving both his hands heavily onto the door. By doing so, he also effectively had Hermione cornered, trapped between his arms on either side of her shoulders. His face did not showed his amusement in her jumpy reaction, as it hardly showed anything these days unless he really felt it.

"Don't be a spoil sport, Granger." He urged her on, standing a bit straighter, which brought him closer to her as well.

Usually Hermione felt fine around George. She felt a bit of the need to care for him, or mess with him. It was always a positive thing, for years now, despite her occasional annoyance with him. But now, there was the negative feeling heavy in the pit of her stomach. She felt threatened, and trapped, and confused as to what to do. She certainly couldn't admit the answer to his question, it felt like betrayal. To him, to George, not to anybody else.

Slightly frantic, Hermione pushed at his chest to get him to back up, then at his arms to move him when that hadn't worked. George only slightly swayed, so she gave for ducking under his arm. Not effective, as the red haired man just grabbed her waist. She squeaked in surprise and struggled again George, to get away, to avoid that feeling in her stomach.

Nothing worked. George was determined, just as determined as Hermione was to not answer. Possibly more. He held her squirming, short form, but it grew difficult as she tried to move forward. He turned Hermione in his arm and slip his legs behind both of hers, tripping her and pushing her down onto the empty bed of the two without paying much attention to it.

He took her hand and held her down much like she had held him down two weeks ago. "Come on, Granger. Just tell me who it was." He spoke kindly for the first time since he began this guessing game.

"Let me up, George!" She growled at her, wiggling under him. Unfortunately she was nowhere near as strong and he was, and couldn't even manage to free one finger, let alone an arm. "Come on, this really isn't funny."

She struggled for not even two more seconds after whining before her eyes were wide with incredible shock and she froze. "George. We're on his _bed_. We're on _Fred's _bed. Let me up! Please." Hermione quickly begged.

Not having realized any of this, George thought before slowly letting go. Hermione scrambled off, falling on the ground as he stood up.

"I don't think I mind people on his bed." George said after a moment, staring at the now mussed sheets. His arms were crossed protectively over his chest. "We didn't really live here his last two years, so it's not really his, I think."

Slowly, his blue eyes connected with her chocolate ones. "Did... Did it really bother you to be on his old bed?" George wondered.

Giving herself a few seconds before answering, Hermione realized that hadn't been what made her move. "No. It didn't bother me." She said. "I just thought you might not like it."

"It's alright." George sighed and sat on the floor next to her, even though her position there was accidental. "You can sleep there, if you fall asleep in here from now on."

Hermione felt that this was huge, in some unconnected way. "Thank you.

The conversation died for a full five minutes as they tried to figure out what to say. Hermione came up with nothing, just staring at her discarded lolly, which had fallen on the ground. Not exactly the safest surface around, considering endless experiments were held in here, even one recently. The incredible conversationalist that he was, George came up with something to say.

"Lately, when we're alone, you don't act like you usually do." He admitted these thoughts to her, ones that have been keeping him thinking for a few days now. He had seen her talking with Ron, joking with Harry, being a business woman with Percy, and then the idealistic girl to his parents. "With everyone else, you're a mature, nineteen year old, hell, I'll say _woman_, but the second we're in here, hiding sweets like five year olds, you might as well be a kid again."

His explanation was far too perfect. Hermione couldn't deny it at all. She couldn't exactly accept it either, because she had not realized as much. Either way, her analytic mind could try to explain it. Her mouth verbalized such thoughts as they came to her.

"I don't know. I just always seem to need a good laugh, you know, and who else should I get it from." She began, then shook her head. "No, that's not right. What I mean is, Harry and Ron are my best friends, but we've been through everything, all our growing up down together, so how can I be a kid with them when I was _never _a kid with them?"

Slowly, she decided that even that explanation was not well and came up with a new one.

"If I could be so bold as to explain it this way -I don't mean to offend - but while I'm not the Gred to you Forge, maybe, I mean, you seem the be the Forge to my metaphorical Gred." She offered next. "Do you get it?"

George nodded, not offended, but a bit saddened. It was about that lack of connection he now had. But he braved a stiff upper lip and spoke. "You know, you could just be Hermione, not Gred. We could come up with names if you like, me and you." He offered.

Hermione giggled slightly to herself. "No, no we couldn't." She shook her head in her laughter. "We would be Ger-my-oh-nee and Hor-ge. Sounds horrible, and we couldn't even shorten it, or we would just be Grr and Whore."

George laughed at that one, finding immense humor in Hermione growling and then saying such a vulgar word. She laughed along right with him. "Or Me and Guy." He added to the list of horrible ideas.

"Morge and Rer." The girl scoffed, mixing the middle letters of their names.

"Nee and Gee." The man then rhymed, wiggling his fingers in the air the a non existent tune.

Clapping her hands lightly like she had a good idea, she looked up at him with a smile. "We could both be O." She proclaimed.

"Brilliant!" George lied in good humor.

For a moment there was only the sound of their laughs. As ideas for nicknames stopped coming, George laid flat on the floor and looked up at the ceiling.

It brought back a good memory. "One time Fred and I were in the attic one night, laying on the floor, and thought that we'd fancy a window in the ceiling." He began to tell Hermione, who slowly lied back as well. "Of course we were only seven, no wands, but our magic was really starting to kick in. We accidentally blew a hole in the roof large enough to fit a troll through."

He closed his eyes, still able to picture the constellations they found and the jagged board that had broken around the edge of the whole. "We stared at the sky for an hour before Mum found us. She turned redder than a beet with anger and gave us the lecture of a lifetime, even though it took dad five minutes to fix the hole." When he opened his eyes again, the feeling of happiness dwindled slightly at his perfectly normal ceiling.

"It was the first time we did magic _together_. We weren't so perfectly in tune with each other until then. After that, it was hard not to figure out what the other felt, or wanted to do." He summed up and turned his head to look at Hermione. She was watching him as he spoke, now their faces inches apart. "That was the start of Gred and Forge."

"Amazing." Hermione breathlessly replied. She never heard of a greater connection than what had been between Fred and George, so it was almost odd to hear that they weren't always that way.

George wasn't aware how tired he ways, or how his eyes were barely open. "I suppose so." He mumbled.

Hermione, however, knew she was worn out and was trying not to fall asleep now. "Maybe we shouldn't switch our names around." She brought up their previous topic, for it was the only thing her mind could concentrate in such a tired state.

"No. We'll just be Mya and Georgie." The twin offered in return, eyes fully closed.

"Perfect."

They both ended up falling asleep, right there on the floor.

* * *

><p>Morning's in the Burrow usually started early. Molly would wake up, wake Arthur, then start on breakfast. Hermione usually woke up next, not too long after, and forced Harry and Ron both up, considering they still shared a room together. If Percy was there, he always woke himself before even Molly stirred. George usually ended up barely crawling downstairs if Molly had decided to try and get him to eat with everyone else.<p>

This next morning, however, was incredibly different than any other. Hermione didn't wake up Harry and Ron. Molly woke up Harry and Ron, saying breakfast was in five minutes. Groggy confusion stole over Harry as he put on his glasses and got out of bed. He gave Ron an extra push, since the redhead still hadn't stirred.

"Come on, Ron, we gotta find Hermione." Harry spoke through a yawn, wondering where his other friend was. Even when they were camping during the war, despite everything, she woke the pair up somehow.

Ron incoherently mumbled and got up slowly. Harry didn't wait before starting his search. He looked in her bedroom, any spare bedrooms, the bathrooms (which were all empty), then downstairs. She still wasn't about in the living room or kitchen. Eyebrow's furrowed together, Harry momentarily interrupted Molly's cooking.

"Mrs. Weasley, have you seen Hermione? I've look nearly every where." He asked her gently in tone, but face still scrunched in obvious distress. He was hopeful nothing bad had happened, or that she had simply taken a morning walk.

Molly was exuberant as ever with her happy response. "Oh, she slept in George's room, dear. I spent a few moments looking for her myself and that was where she was, perfectly asleep." The woman explained, seemingly unbothered and not at all curious as to why.

"Well, do you know why she's there?" Harry asked first, because he was curious.

"Not at all, Harry, but they're both on the floor with plenty of candy thrown about." She shrugged and continued to cook up a large pan of eggs. "I've guessed they finally made friends. Be a dear and please wake them both up, will you?"

Without complaint or comment, Harry went up to the third floor and knocked of George's door. When no sound responded to him, he opened it and found exactly what Molly had found. They were both on the floor, both in their pajamas, one of George's arms flung over Hermione and one of her legs somewhere between both of his. A discarded lolly was sticking to the floor, its wrapper on the bed, along with an open tin of cookies and crumbs.

Saving the need for answers for later, Harry stepped into the room, for possibly the first time ever if his memory was well, and shook Hermione. For some reason he didn't have the nerve to shake George.

"Mione, George, it's breakfast time. Mrs. Weasley said you _have_ to wake up." He fibbed quite loudly.

Hermione stirred first and looked up at Harry. "Mm... okay." She mumbled and Harry scurried from the room as she began to shake George. "Wake up. We fell asleep on the floor."

He groaned and cracked one eye to see that they were, in fact, on the floor. George then closed that eye. "Morning, Mya."

"Good morning, Georgie." She smiled at their first time using the new nicknames, nearly having forgotten than part of their conversation. "Come on, we need to get up."

"Alright." George slowly agreed.

It took them a moment to detach from each other and stand. George yawned greatly while Hermione stretched all the way up, arms high, and on her toes. Then, they slowly made their way down to the kitchen with leaded feet. This time around, George actually ate with everyone, as well. Nobody mentioned how they were sleeping together, and so Ron never found out why Harry was giving them such confused looks.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Hermione had been living at the Burrow for two and a half months when she finally got a job. It was that position Percy was speaking to her about, with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. She would simply begin tailing a lawyer for this department, learning about their causes, and so on. She had yet to have her first day and as she got ready for just that, George came into her room without so much as a knock.

He had come to ask her if she could do him a quick favor but saw that she was dressed quite formally. "What's with the skirt, Mya?" He asked upon the sight of her pencil skirt and blazer.

"Hey Georgie." Hermione greeted nervously as she looked at herself in the mirror. With it being her first day and all, she need to look incredibly professional, not like a nineteen year old girl with no NEWTs and lacking manners. "Today's my first day of training. I got offered that job Percy mentioned, and if they really want me, then I'll just take my NEWTs and it'll be a bit more permanent."

He watched her fuss with a scarf before she threw away her blazer, and fussed some more. Then, she decided against the blazer and done into her closet looking for a black cardigan. It was nearly comical, how far into the relatively small closet she had pushed herself before emerging successful.

"You know," George interrupted, leaning in her door frame still. "You don't have to worry. They'll probably snatch you up without test scores. You're Hermione Granger."

She looked at him with a slight smile before rolling her eyes. "Flattering as you are, I somehow doubt that. There are three much more educated and refined applicants trying for the same job, so I have a very slim chance of getting it, really."

Frustrated with her appearance, Hermione three off the cardigan as well and was back to going through her closet. "Hey George, do you have a vest that I might borrow?" She asked her clothes, it seemed, with how intently she hunted through them.

"Yeah, just a minute." He pushed off from her door and went into his room. There, he stood uselessly for a second.

George didn't really have vest, except for a few incredibly nice ones that go with oddly colored suits. Those, however, were all at the flat above his shop. When they were living at the Burrow, he always gave his vests to Fred, because the other twin quite liked wearing them. Now, George knew there were a few in Fred's drawers that got left behind when they moved, back from when they were both incredibly small teens.

Lips pressed shut in concentration - for George didn't really want to think of Fred right now - he opened the middle drawer of his twins dresser and rifled through it. He found a blue/grey vest easily enough and grabbed it. As he went back to give it to Hermione, he would not mention to her that it was Fred's. Hermione barely glanced at it before throwing her arms around George.

"Thanks!" She spoke excitedly and pulled it on over her white blouse. It was barely big on her, unnoticeable, really, and she threw away her rose colored scarf for a light blue one instead.

Right then Arthur called up the stairs. "Are you ready, Hermione? Don't want to be late, do you?" He charmingly asked.

Hermione didn't answer the man, but was in a rush to meet him. Before she left the room she placed a hand on George's arm. "I'll be home around five, if you wanted to know." She smiled before ducking past him.

* * *

><p>Even though Hermione already knew several ways to enter the Ministry of Magic, from several infiltrations, Arthur still went through the long process of explaining how she was too flush herself. It didn't matter that she said she knew, and had done it before. He wanted to make sure that everything went quite alright on her very first day. Training or not, this was made out to be a big deal.<p>

Hermione flushed herself quickly into the Ministry, not wanting some woman to screech at her to hurry up like the last time, when she was clueless. Arthur met her on the other side, leading her to the atrium. "Now, I can't take you all the way down to the Department, but this elevator here will to the trick." He said and ushered her into on of the golden cages.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley." Hermione politely said as the gate closed. Arthur smiled and waved, but the elevator was already going back in the dark tunnel, then sining down.

Now that she was actually here, Hermione's nerves weren't as riled up. She was calm, she knew that this job really was something she had wanted, that she could do. All it took was a bit of effort, plenty of will power, and the knowledge and determination that she already had. If not, she could learn.

The elevator changed direction once and it was a few more seconds before it came to a bustling office settling. The only thing that distinguished it as the place she needed to be was a small wooden sign by the elevator that said:

**'DEPARTMENT FOR THE REGULATION AND CONTROL OF MAGICAL CREATURES'**

With a deep breath, Hermione stepped into the large office area. It had high ceilings, many desks in one circular area with people bustling about and papers flying through the air, a few office doors, and three halls leading off somewhere else. Not even a moment after she had stepped into it all, someone was grabbing her shoulders, making her walk as they began speaking quickly.

"You must be Hermione Granger. Obviously, anyone would recognize your face. And hair." The man blatantly said, leading her down the furthest right hall. "Here to work in the Beast Division, aren't you? It's just this way, I'll take you to the head of the department."

Now, Hermione was flustered. A random stranger knowing your business and urgently leading you away could cause such feelings. She tried not to show it off too well, since she was already red in the face over his comment on her hair.

"And who might you be?" She tried to ask nicely, but was annoyed slightly as the man had just nudged her into another person.

Accidentally, of course. "I'm Wilts. Also in Beast Division, on the Ghoul Task Force." He went on quickly. As he went on to explain his title of investigating and removing annoying ghouls, Hermione wondered how long this hall was, for it seemed to take them an eternity to walk it.

Just as she finished the grueling thought of being forever stuck in the hallway with Wilts arm around her shoulders, the hall opened up to a similar, round office area. This time, however, the ceiling were shorter, the was more lighting, more offices, and no more halls. There were even less desk in the center, and they were separated by cubicals. All the doors were only scripted with initials, except for one office that held glass windows and a name on the door.

_'Howard R. Campbell_  
><em>Head of Beast Division<em>  
><em>Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures'<em>

His plaque was long, to hold the entire title, and looked ridiculous. Just a long, slender plate of gold stuck to a windowed door. Hermione didn't dare mention it, or even laugh in her own mind, too afraid to be quite offensive. Wilts knocked on the door and pointed wildly at Hermione when the man inside the office, Mr. Campbell, looked up. Mr. Campbell waved her in, and as she opened the door Wilts left without saying anything in dismissal.

Which was fine with Hermione, considering he seemed quite obtrusive.

"Come right in, Miss Granger, have a seat." The low, kind voice of the man inside told her. She easily did as asked, fiddling with the end of her scarf after she had sat. "I hope you don't mind but I contacted a few of your old professors at Hogwarts, to see how you were your previous year in school."

It was an odd way to begin training, and stunned Hermione a bit. "You know, to make up for your lack of NEWT scores. They all said pleasant things, of course." Mr. Campbell added.

She nodded numbly.

"Well, here in the Beast division we don't do a whole lot of field work - with only the Ghoul Task Force and Werewolf Capture Unit, who barely get work - but we need someone with skill and charisma as our lawyer." He went on to explain the job. Hermione was suddenly glad, because as he spoke she realized she knew absolutely nothing about the Beast Division. "Especially for the Disposal Committee, so that any over-the-top activists who think our methods are cruel are suppressed."

Her brown eyes went a bit wide. "Disposal Committee?" She repeated to herself. They, obviously, killed beasts that had wronged anybody. Hermione immediately thought back to third year, and the wrongly accused Buckbeak.

Mr. Campbell heard her and sat back. "Yes, and it would also be quite handy to have a lawyer to relay information. Nothing's happened recently, but a few years ago we got about one hundred complaints from wizards and witches about their house elves wanting to be free. They didn't realize that the matter should be taken up with the Being Division."

Hermione suppressed the urge to claim that house elves should be free, and paid healthy wages. "Do you know why?" She asked instead.

"Oh, yes. Apparently one house elf - Dopey or Dob or something - was freed from his very high class family. Some other house elves wanted the same freedom and while they did obey their masters, they always asked to be set free, or paid." He went on to explain it to her. He didn't have to say much for Hermione to understand that he meant Dobby. "Anyway, that all stopped last year when he died, or something of the like. Glad it finally happened, as well, but I wonder what did him in."

That was too far. Incredibly so, and Hermione didn't understand how she hadn't let out her anger to moment that annoyed tone filled Mr. Campbell's voice. Not only was he saying something that went against all of her teenage SPEW views, but it was about Dobby, the bravest elf who saved not only her life, but others as well. The loving elf who was at Hogwarts half her time there, who loved her hats, and was, above all else, _free_.

In a completely shameful but appropriate response, Hermione slammed her hands on the desk of the department head, standing up so quick that her chair fell back.

"That _elf_ that you so blatantly claim was some kind of annoyance to you, you should be thanking!" She yelled at him in a flustered manner, not caring for one moment that her voice cracked slightly, that her cheeks were red, or that she was now yelling at the person she hoped to be her boss. "If it weren't for Dobby, Voldemort would have won this war! And you want to know _why_?"

Mr. Campbell didn't react, because she didn't give him time to. "He saved Harry Potter's life! As well as my own, and without him, many more people would be dead than there already are. So what if elves wanted to be free? If you knew the amazing things Dobby did, you would want them all to be free as well!"

She was panting in rage and effort after she had finished her lecture, while Mr. Campbell looked quite put off and held her with a glare. Hermione felt his distaste and could just see her application being burned in the fire.

"Miss Granger, I'm afraid that if you want to have any sort of just here, you will have to take back what you said apologize for your mistakes." The man ordered in that voice of his, no longer kind, but still deep, poisonous, and condescending beyond all belief. If he would treat Hermione like a child, and make her apologize for everything she believed in, this was not a job she wanted.

Still blocked off from her own logical mind, Hermione didn't just walk away. No, first, she leaned forward and gave him a good punch that was fit for someone as detestable as Malfoy.

* * *

><p>George was staring out his window in the front of the house, roughly about two and a half hours after Hermione had left for work. He was pushing his hair out of his face, which had grown at a ridiculously quick pace after the war, and he wondered if he should just ask his mother to cut it instead of waiting for Hermione. As he was about to ask Molly to do just that, cut his hair, he stopped and focused on something that had appeared outside.<p>

It looked like three people. Two in blue and gold robes, holding the person in the middle. Just by the color, George knew that the men were Aurors, escorting someone that quite suspiciously looked like Hermione, and they were heading right for the Burrow.

Alarmed and curious still, George left his room in haste to get downstairs. By the time he got there, the Aurors should have been much closer, so he ran to the kitchen.

"Mum, get the door." He urgently told Molly, before there was even a knock. She looked at him quite oddly for a moment, but as someone banged twice on the front door, she was quick to answer.

Ron and Harry saw Molly and George move to the door and watched in curiosity to see who was there. Molly opened it and gasped at the sight of two particularly muscled Aurors tightly holding Hermione, who was, herself, just as shocking. Her hair was a mess, a small half circle bruise formed around her left eye, and there was a bit of bood on her clothes. Considering she never looked this bad, it was like seeing her during the war all over again.

"Molly Weasley?" One Auror asked upon being revealed. As the mother nodded, Hermione looked down a bit shamefully. "We're formally releasing Hermione Granger into your custody."

Both Auror's sort of pushed her forward. Molly let her slip by while Harry and Ron scrambled to their friend's side. George just stepped back.

"Well, what happened?" Molly asked the two Aurors, wondering if Hermione was charged for something or in some sort of trouble.

The second Auror spoke this time around. "Seems she started a muggle fight with Howard Campbell, the department head of the Beast Division, after verbally assaulting and threatening him."

"Over a house elf." The first Auror added with a bit of amusement in his tone. Then the two apparated away without giving further explanation.

Harry was gaping as Ron groaned. "Not that spew stuff again, 'Mione. It's nothing to fight over." Ron berated her as any annoyed friend would have.

"It's S-P-E-W, Ronald, and that's not what this was about!" She yelled at him and then just sort of addressed the present household in general. "And I don't want to talk about it."

She walked off without Molly or anyone getting a word in.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Harry and Ron followed Hermione up to her room.

That was fine with George. He didn't need to talk to her, or eavesdrop to learn details. He had just wanted to make sure that she wasn't in any kind of real trouble and, well, she hadn't been. Figuring he could also wait on his hair cut, George simply sat on one of the couches. His mum looked stressed enough about Hermione becoming a possible criminal over a fight she knew nothing about, and George didn't need her distractedly cutting off his only ear.

Molly sat down with her son. "Don't you want to know what happened to her?" She asked George.

He looked at his mother, who, quite recently, had this knowing little glimmer in her eyes. It was annoying. The last time she had it was when she was wagering with everyone that Harry and Ginny would be together by the end of Harry's sixth school year. She never gave up on the fact that it would happen, she would be right, and when it did happen everyone just cheered, knowing Molly would finally drop the nagging subject.

George didn't like that he was getting the look now, and wondered what she wanted. "Um, not really." He answered her question.

"Well, why not? Aren't the two of you dating?" Molly pressed, this look on her face showing that she was waiting for a yes, yes they were dating. That it was serious and they would marry and give her a grand child.

"Oh." George said as he discovered why she had that twinkle in her eyes. Then, in perfect succession with his observation, he denied it. "No."

She looked utterly gobsmacked by the possibility that they weren't together. Served her right, George thought. "You like her, don't you? Why don't you make a move, or whatever it is you kids call it. Ask her out. Valentines day is incredibly soon, isn't it?"

The suggestions were further annoying George. So he tried to divert the attention off of himself. "Is this you picking sides? You know that Ron's liked her for an eternity."

"Oh, that's just a boy's crush." Molly waved her hand through the air. Like it was preposterous that the two might end up together. "He doesn't know what love feel like, he just doesn't know any other girls."

Sounded familiar. Oh, yeah, a while back George accused Hermione she didn't know any guys other than Ron. It also reminded him that he still needed to figure out who her so secret first kiss was.

George had to crush his mother's hopes just slightly if he ever wanted this awkward conversation to end. "I don't like Mya in the way you think, Mum. We're friends." He told her in a stern voice that nearly demanded silence to follow it. However, Molly Weasley was never one to take such order, especially from her child, and continued to speak.

"You seem like more than friends to me. She's in your room every night, and you talk to her more than anyone else in this house." The woman huffed at him. "I've heard you laugh with her, George, and never had I even heard Hermione seem quite as happy than when she's alone with you."

Molly stood up and placed a hand on his head, running it down to his cheek. "I think it's great that you can find someone you like after Fred."

Immediately George ducked from her hand and stood as well, but not quite as nicely.

"Stop it! This is exactly why I'm happier with Hermione than the rest of you!" He began to yell, not able to meet his mother's eyes. "She's the only one that doesn't drown me in a plethora of sympathies! She doesn't look at me like I lost anyone, she doesn't tell me that Fred would want to see me happy, and she doesn't say that it's okay to cry or be upset. She simply lets me _be._"

As words poured from his mouth he began to realize how incredibly true it all was. He hadn't previously gave it thought. "She let's me talk about Fred when I want to talk about, but she never mentions him. She distracts me, and makes an effort to make me laugh without using ridiculous charms or horrible jokes. She doesn't act like my brother ever died, even though we both know he has, and I like it that way!"

George finished with chagrin, shocked with how much he had revealed. It was also the most words he had said to his mother, cumulatively, over the last eight months. Not waiting for a response, and biting back the familiar burn of a good cry, he stormed up the stairs. Ignoring the voices in Hermione's room, he entered his own and gave the door a good slam. Molly regretted pushing the topic of romance so hard instantly.

* * *

><p>Hermione was in her room all of five seconds when Harry and Ron knocked upon her door. Already seated on her bed, holding an old photo album, she just called them to come in. As they entered and sat at the end of the bed, Hermione at the head with her legs crossed, she simply went about opening the album. It was full of magical pictures throughout their years at Hogwarts. Very few she had taken herself, the others from Dennis and Colin Creevy, Molly, Remus, and a few other people as well, all collected into one place with over a hundred memories among them.<p>

She hadn't been sure why she wanted to pull it out now, after a whole eight months since she put in the latest pictures, but it was in her top drawer, waiting to be opened. "I haven't seen that in a while." Harry mentioned as she began to flip through the pages.

Quite suddenly she stopped and smoothed the pictured pages down. Hermione had found a time in third year, and the two face up pages held four pictures. Harry and Ron wearing matching scarves Hermione had knitted. Then Hermione being hugged by Harry. The other two, however, were of a very excited a smiling Dobby. One picture, in which, he wore roughly ten hats on his head.

"Hmm, Dobby." Harry chuckled in a slight fondness.

"Today, Mr. Campbell told me that he was glad that Dobby died." Hermione flat out explained and gently ran her fingers over one of the pictures.

The brittle calmness in the room died as Harry tensed up and Ron yelled. "What a wanker!" The red head blurted rudely.

"So is that why you fought?" Harry bristled, showing an expression of such contempt for someone he never even heard of.

Hermione shook her head and began to look through the album in her lap. There were only pictures of them, the three friends, and whoever lingered in the background. "No, I yelled at him. I tried to explain all the things that Dobby did to help our side in the war, but he didn't care. All he cared about was that some people called the wrong department over their house elves."

"And then you hit him?" Ron asked, his temper sounding through his words quite heavily. Hermione new they'd both be upset, and it was why she didn't want to mention it downstairs. They might have exploded, more than just Ron's yell.

Slowly, Hermione nodded and slowly closed her book, looking up at her friends. "And he hit me back. But I'm not weak, I fought him, and I think I did quite well." She spoke with pride.

As Ron loudly congratulated her and Harry squeezed her hand, they all heard the loud steps of someone coming down the hall. Then, the door across from Hermione's slammed and they knew that it was George. A slight bit of worry rang out through all of them, and Hermione wondered what had happened to upset him. these days he may be quiet, but he was never so emotional, at least not visibly.

Harry changed the subject upon the disturbance. "How come you go to George's room most nights?" He finally asked, after weeks of being curious.

"We're friends." Hermione answered, giving Ron a sideways glance.

All of this was new information to him. He didn't know they even spoke, other than very occasionally if George had dinner with them all. "I didn't know that you two hung out." He sort of stumbled on his words.

The girl sort of shrugged and felt nervous, being so on the spot. "Yeah, we do. We talk and eat candy, really. Not much more." She admitted and shifted slightly.

Hermione didn't know why she felt so weird, talking about George when it was so natural talking _to_ him.

"What do you talk about?" Ron asked calmly, almost sullenly, as if there was more he really wanted to know, or that he was disappointed.

She shrugged again and looked down at her lap, or, the book in her lap. "Normal stuff. Socks, school, magic, his shop sometimes." Hermione listed expertly, of course not going in to detail of the few times they spoke about relationships, or casual snogging conversations.

"Does he..." Ron paused and moved slightly himself. "Does he ever mention Fred? He hasn't talked to me about it, so has he told you anything?"

Oh, so that was what Ron wanted to know. Of course it was only natural. If anyone of the Weasley's knew that her and George talked as much as they did, they would want to know what he had said. If there was anything they didn't know about their brothers, or if George was getting over it. Hermione let out a slightly shaky breath and decided that this much, it was okay to elaborate.

"Yes, sometimes." She agreed with a slight nod. "He tells me stories, like when he and Fred blew a hole in the attack. And that Fred and him made bets about what would happen after the war, and Fred owes him fifty galleons." Hermione explained. "And, I think, that George is slowly getting over it. Last week he mentioned maybe moving back to his flat."

Ron sniffed loudly and upon inspection she saw her red haired friend had slight tears in his eyes, not even close to falling to his cheeks, but there. "And that's it?"

Hermione sadly frowned. "That's all he's told me, Ron. I'm sorry." She spoke softly as to not jostle the emotional man from his deep concentration. He seemed to be trying not to cry, and hard.

"Yeah, alright." He nodded and shoved the palms of his hands into his eyes, rubbing furiously at them. When his hands fell from his face, his eyes were red but he no longer looked like he had to cry.

Realizing for the first time in a while that Ron no longer had the emotional range of a teaspoon, Hermione leaned forward and hugged him tightly. Not a moment after she started it, she also pulled Harry against the two of them, turning it into a group hug. And a well needed one, for them all, as stressed as they seemed to be.

* * *

><p>It was a bit later than usual, nearly eleven, when Hermione finally had time to knock on George's door. She had spent all her time after dinner freaking out about a job, owling Percy to apologize, as he was the one who suggested her to Mr. Campbell. And she was sorry, for causing Percy any trouble if she had, if word got back to him, but not sorry for how she acted. Or what she did which, even according to the two snickering Aurors, Mr. Campbell deserved.<p>

After she had gotten Percy's response, she spent some time fuming. Word around the ministry was, according to the horrible man she attacked, _he_ defended the house elves and _she_ attacked him saying they were annoying. Everyone who heard anything about Hermione, whether they knew of her SPEW days or not, hadn't believed a word. The rumors were simply that Mr. Campbell was saying it, not that it was true.

Otherwise, her actions in no way harmed or even altered Percy in anyway. After all, Kingsley Shacklebolt was Minister of Magic, and knew Hermione. Not well, but enough to know that she had a good reason if she ever settled on violence. She was only ever provoked, and had her mind in the right place, according to Percy, so all blame would settle on Campbell when this was all over.

Once George let her into his room she explained all of that morning's workings, and the evening's close. The only reaction the man had was to congratulate her, and then add, "Trio or not, it was about time you initiated something on your own."

He spoke with a smile.

"I've initiated other things." She huffed. Then she came to the thought that he probably didn't know of any of those things, as her and the others barely spoke of half the trouble they got into every year. George probably didn't even know the useless fact of her punching Draco Malfoy in third year.

George sort of laughed dismissively at her comment. "Well, this sure is a step up from busting Fred and me testing products on first years." He casually suggested.

Hermione paused for a moment, thinking about Ron earlier in her room. "Georgie, why don't you talk about Fred with other people?" She asked him gently, hands twisting together in her lap. "You bring him up sometimes, but I've never seen you talk to your family about him. I know sometimes Ron wants to ask you things, but he's always too afraid you'll get mad at him or something."

The question was, for lack of a better word, odd. Completely out of the view and off topic, but it made George think of exactly what he told his mother that morning.

"Because they ask me when I don't want to talk, and just look at me with such _pity_, it's disgusting." He managed to squeeze out of himself. And now that he was talking, it came as naturally as his rant to Molly. "I want to mention him, a lot, but I enter a room and they're all bloody staring at me, like I might break down and kill myself or something."

"Isn't that a bit extreme-" Hermione began to ask and try to explain that they weren't.

She was promptly cut off. "No, it isn't extreme, and you know it. And I guess that yes, I would be mad if Ron had asked me a few weeks ago, when he was being an annoying git, but now, I don't think so." As he got to the end of his statement George's sharp tones softened a bit. "I'm... I'm not over it, I won't ever be over it, but it's getting easier to talk about Fred."

In her peripheral, Hermione saw him move. When she looked over, George was half turned to her. "I'll deny this if you ever bring it up, but thank you, Mya. For just not asking, and letting me talk about him when I wanted to."

"No problem." She smiled kindly at him, tilting her chin down in a flattered nervousness. "And I'll never mention it."

"Good."

She went back to staring at her hands, now locked together and unmoving. "So, um, can you do me a favor and just tell Ron a story now and then? He would probably appreciate it, seeing as right now he's your only sibling living here, until Ginny gets back." Hermione somewhat begged.

George saw this as nothing but an opportunity. "On one condition." He stated playfully, ignoring her quiet tones and pleading behavior.

Hermione was hesitant. "Alright." She agreed.

"Tell me who your first kiss was."

She was positively mortified, having thought this topic was long ago forgotten. What had brought it back? Why did he want to know. Unfortunately, her friends meant more to her than that secret. Hermione would make the trade, it was only fair, no matter how deep her blush was.

"Um, I'm actually surprised you don't know." She giggled nervously. "Seeing as he wasn't exactly known for keeping secrets. But, um, it's kind of a shame of mine, and really embarrassing. You see, it wasn't meant to happen, it was an accident at first, but then it turned into a full on snog."

George eagerly pressed on. "That's not the answer I want, Mya. Name, date, not details."

Hermione had to actually turn her back on him to save herself further embarrassment from seeing his reaction when she spoke. "It was Lee Jordan." She quickly blurted, in one rushed breath, barely understandable.

George was gobsmacked. A long moment of silence carried on between them. Then, he cleared his throat and spoke. "Ah, I think, um, now I need details."

"I was studying, and he was trying to get my attention to gossip, you know, about Viktor Krum. It was right after Viktor asked me to the Yule Ball." Hermione began to explain, smiling because she didn't know how else to explain this funny yet horrifying story. "And Lee got really, _really _close, and when I looked up to tell him to bugger off, we accidentally kissed, for maybe two seconds."

Her next words come out in a horrified groan. "Oh, Gods, I was petrified and just thinking, _'great, now the whole school will know. What will Viktor say?'_ And before I could even run off, I think I was able to stand up half way, Lee grabbed me and just kissed me. I think we were there for ten minutes, snogging in a corner in the library."

"That's disgusting." George mentioned, and when Hermione looked over he was fake retching.

She laughed at this reaction, which was at least humorous. "Yes, I know. But I'm thankful, ever so slightly, because when Viktor snogged me two weeks later I wasn't completely clueless." She pat her friend on the shoulder.

George laughed, and then had an expression that hinted he was in thought. "You know, I think I remember that day. Fred, Lee, and I wanted to figure out was going on between you and the Quidditch stud. I almost went to find you, but Fred wanted to do some other prank and we sent Lee off. He came back and didn't say a single word about you or your scandal."

"And you're more annoying than Lee." Hermione pointed out. "You probably would have been even more in my personal space then he was. Imagine, if you had gone, we probably would have snogged."

"Quite true." George gave an appreciative nod to her statement. He was _known_ for throwing himself into people's personal bubbles when in Hogwarts.

For the first time ever, there was an awkward silence between them, where neither knew what to say. Pulling her legs onto the bed and crossing them under her, Hermione was flushed as she broke it this time.

"So, um, remember to talk to Ron. You have to, you know, when you feel like it."

He nodded. "I remember."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

It was perfect. The revenge plan. The timing, the unique-ness of it, and the spell that would execute it all.

Usually Hermione wouldn't care for such retaliation, but in a personal battle she was very much a part of, between just her and George, she would put everything into it. And for a couple weeks, she had. Not only did she have to think up what she would be, but she had to create the spell herself. Nothing was as unexpected as that. And, thought bias, she thought it was a brilliant spell.

It took all of her spare time to create. Research was done discreetly, since the very moment George asked her when she was going to attack. She had taken down pages of notes and ideas to even get the image of what the spell would do in her mind. Then it was about figuring out what the incantation would be. This took Hermione one week of her time.

After that, she spent spare time experimenting with it, using it on objects to see how it worked, accidentally getting herself into part of the spell as well. After that she was adamant about the counter curse, not liking the situation she found herself in for an hour and a half before it wore off.

But now it was perfect, and she would do it before breakfast, because a good part of the Weasley family and close friends were having breakfast at the Burrow, as it was a Sunday. Seeing as it was also spring break for students, Ginny would be coming in for the day from school, but only this one day because she had to study for NEWts and Molly wouldn't allow her to slack off at home.

This was slightly disappointing, Hermione found, since she was friends with Ginny the past couple years, but at least the cinnamon haired daughter of the family would witness Hermione's incredible plan.

Setting things into motion, Hermione was out of her room by seven thirty, and sneaking across the hall. As usual George was in a good, deep sleep, as she opened the door. Not entering fully, Hermione simply withdrew her wand and pointed it at George. Under her breath, she spoke the spell. "_omnia lentum._"

A short, barely noticeable blue glow settled over George before disappearing completely. Refraining from jumping up and down in excitement or making any noise of glee, Hermione closed the door and happily went up stairs to wake Ron and Harry. She didn't knock and bother with the same silence she had moments ago upon entering their room, jumping onto Harry's bed.

"Wake up!" She yelled at her friends, jumping up and down with excitement on Harry's springy, noisy mattress. As he yelped in shock and woke, she jumped across the small gap between beds and onto Ron's bed. "Up, Ronald Weasley! Get up and listen to my brilliant plan before I hex you!"

Ronald yelped like a girl at her jumping and threats, waking quite efficiently. Hermione noted these tactics for future morning when he was difficult to stir. Thoroughly pleased now that both boys were awake, she got off Ron's bed and calmly stood in the middle of the room, eyes flickering from one startled, confused boy to the other.

"I'm getting revenge on George." She was suddenly quiet as she told them this, though her grin was wide with mischief. Feeling what she was feeling, proud and nervous, but ecstatic all at once, she somewhat understood why Fred and George were always so quick to show off their new tricks.

Ron groaned and fell back onto his bed at her confession, uncaring. Harry gave her a stern look. "Did you have to wake us so violently to tell us that?" He wondered in a groggy tone.

"Yes, because it's brilliant, and I wanted to warn you not to touch George this morning." Hermione crossed her arms diligently. These seemed to peak both men's interests, and she smirked. "I put a charm on him, so anything other that the structure of the building -floor, walls, doors- will stick to him and be unable to be taken off."

Curiosity was brewing in them. "So if he sat on the toilet, would he be stuck?" Ron asked, looking up at her from his pillow, incredibly amused.

"Crude, Ronald, and no." She flushed slightly, lifting her chin. "That's part of the building."

Once again uninterested, Ron lifted his pillow and hid his head under it. Not allowing him to put such a damper on her good mood, Hermione gave the pillow a smack right where his face ought to be.

"Both of you should get up soon. Ginny said she should be here by eight o'clock, and it is now seven forty-two." She said while leaving the room. From the hall she heard, she knew, Harry jumping out of bed and running into something before a dresser drawer opened.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione jogged down the stairs. Before going all the way down she went to George's room and knocked quite loudly. "Get up, Georgie!" She yelled and didn't even check on him before bolting into her room as though she would immediately get caught.

* * *

><p>George heard Hermione's insane yelling and groaned as he put quite a bit of effort into lifting his head from his arms. Taking in a deep breath he pushed himself out of bed and stood before realizing the oddest thing. His sheet was not coming off his back.<p>

Usually he would laugh and somewhat enjoy the thought of it looking somewhat like a cape, but right now he was too tired to appreciate it, and needed to get dressed before Sunday breakfast. He, after all, felt this odd and impeccable need to look nice for his visiting sister. This in mind, he reached back with his left hand and pulled the sheet gently, thinking it would come off.

It didn't move or slip a bit. He pulled harder before taking in the fact that it was stuck. Right away it clicked in his mind that this was not an accident. This was a prank, it had to be, Hermione's inevitable payback. He didn't exactly feel amused by this thought, but at least she had finally come up with something that would bother him.

George walked to his door and reached for it with the same hand he pulled his blanket with, looking at his palm. It was stuck to the blanket as well now. At least Hermione was being thorough. He would probably stick to everything.

His first thought was, _Clever_.

His second was that he needed help, and maybe somebody else could pull the blanket off of him. Opening his door slowly, glad that he didn't stick to the doorknob, George went downstairs. The only person there so far, in the kitchen as usual, was his mother. Molly was in the middle of cooking when he entered the room, looking distressed and quite tousled.

"Mum, can you pull the blanket off me?" George requested absurdly as he entered the room. Molly looked up with a bit of a startled reaction.

"Of course, dear, but how did it get stuck?" She asked as he turned around. Molly went to pulling at it without any success as George thought of how to really answer that.

If he lied, what would he say? Then again, if he told the truth Molly could probably convince Hermione much quicker that he could to fix whatever she had done. "I think Hermione pranked me." He finally decided to say.

The simple accusation made Molly stop her pulling. "Well, dear, go and ask her to fix it. Ginny should be here any moment."

That moment, it seemed, came just as George was walking through the living room to the stairs. Right next to him the fire place burst into green flames and spat out a short, red haired girl. She immediately squealed upon her arrival.

"George!" She shrieked and launched forward.

Shocked and nearly horrified, he tried to move out of the way. "No, don't touch me!" George yelled.

This exclamation came a moment too late. Even though he moved, Ginny had managed to grab his arms, as though preparing to pull him into a hug. As he yelled she went to jump back, only to have her hands stuck to her brother, who lurched forward slightly at her tug. Eyes squeezing shut, nose scrunched in frustration, George pulled a very Percy move by pinching the bridge of his nose.

"What in the world, George?" Ginny began to panic, trying to pull her hands off of him. Nothing worked, only jostling George's arms about and making him move. "Why are you, well, why am I sticking to you?"

Letting out a breath he glared at the ceiling, as though glaring through two floors and at Hermione. "It's a prank."

Ginny blinked. "Really?" She had received letters a while back that Ron was trying to prank George. Was this his work? "Well, who did it?"

"Hermi-" He began to utter the name that, right now, belonged to someone he sort of loathed, just for a moment, when something hit him in the face.

It was a quaffle, and it effortlessly stuck to his cheek. A glare etched into stony, dark features he looked towards the attacker, to see the golden trio themselves. Harry and Ron were feigning innocence while Hermione was hitting Ron in the arm. George had a feeling this was his brother's fault, the quaffle.

"Ginny, you're early." Harry happily smiled at the girl, his girlfriend, itching to hug her. Unfortunately she was in no position to receive it. "I've missed you, a lot."

The girl noticed them and her face brightened. "Aww," she cooed," I missed you too, Harry. Ron, set me free so I can hug my boyfriend." She glared at Ron.

"This wasn't me!" Ron hollered, seeming to remember the death glare of George well from Hermione's very first prank, and not at all wanting the blame for something else.

Arthur appeared next to Hermione from the stairs.

"What's going on down here?" He happily asked, walking towards the kitchen. He noticed George's odd state of dress and went to pat his son's shoulder before anyone could warm him. "Don't you think you should get dressed, George? Breakfast is nearly ready."

He went to move, but his hand was stuck to George's shoulder.

Ron laughed while everyone else sort of watched on sympathetically. "What is this foolery?" Arthur pondered quite loudly.

"Oh no." Hermione sort of laughed as she cried it out. This was, after all, a bit amusing. "I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley. Let me get my wand and I'll get you all free, okay?"

She bolted up the stairs, while Ginny looked positively ruffled. "Wait, Hermione pranked George? Brilliant." She praised.

Coming to notice what was going on, Arthur chuckled himself. "Ah, this is her retaliation. At least this time I get to see what has been done, well, actually experience it, really. I'm not quite sure I know this spell, however."

"I think she made it herself." Harry piped up, keeping a safe distance away from them all so he wouldn't get stuck as well. Ron didn't think as logically, and was only staying away because Harry was. "Last week she told me she was busy working on a spell, but I'm pretty sure she can do any existing spell without such practice."

Arthur was even further impressed. "Wonderful!" He exclaimed.

At the same moment the floo flashed green again. This time Percy calmly stepped out, knocking into the group before he realized what was happening. Ginny, George, and Harry yelled at him to stop but it was far too late. One of his hands went just above Ginny's on George's right arm to steady himself. He, as well, became stuck.

"What is going on now?" Molly yelled and bustled into the kitchen. She noticed her husband and two of her children effectively stuck to her other son. George looked positively furious. "Oh, dear, where is Hermione?"

Arthur chimed, "Getting her wand to set us free. I dare say, this spell of hers is strong, don't you all think?" He gleefully asked Percy, who was just gobsmacked and staring at the mess he came a part of.

Hermione came running down the stairs. "Oh, Percy! I'm sorry." She cried upon seeing a new addition to the mess. Clearing her throat and lifting her wand, she said the counter curse. "_L__iberum_ _iterum_."

The first sign that the spell worked was George's bed sheet falling to the ground slowly. Then, everyone jumped away as though in but a moment they would get stuck again.

"Freedom!" George yelled, not exactly happy or sarcastic, but seeming like he actually meant it. He ran up the stairs before anything more could happen to him, leaving his sheet behind.

Ginny wanted to comment on how well George seemed to be, but was pulled into a tight embrace by Harry. Such things, like her brother's welfare, completely fled her mind at the touch of the man she loved. Everyone was glad to see the seen, except for Ron, who pretended to gag at his sister and best mate holding each other.

The moment they let go, everyone was excitedly saying hello to the girl, greeting her and then Percy. In the mess of Sunday morning normal-ness, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Bill and a pregnant Fleur, Minerva McGonagall, and Andromeda Tonks carrying little Teddy, all arrived. At some point George even returned, dressed and prepared for a crowd, but not looking happy.

But he had a silent truce with Hermione now that the prank was over. It was made the moment they made eye contact, nodding at each other. Hermione was slightly disappointed that not everyone got to see it, but the story was retold by anyone who saw at some point during breakfast.

It was a loud, crowded occasion, Sunday's at the Burrow. But they were all thankful for magic, making the kitchen much bigger, and the table long enough for everyone. You couldn't always talk to everyone you would like to until after the meal, but either was Hermione and the others were happy with exactly where they sat, pleasantly chatting with whoever was near. In the middle of breakfast, a note even found it's way down the table to Hermione.

It was from George, she knew automatically by the note's appearance. Folded into a broom and flying down the table, shocking people who were reaching for their glasses or lifting their forks by zipping right past their hands. Then the note made a crash landing into Hermione's hair, to which she squealed slightly before retrieving it. The paper held only a few words.

_"Very nice spell. Teach it to me sometime for the joke shop."_

Cheer bubbled up in her like never before. Not because she was praise, oh no, she was used to that. She was incredibly happy by the fact that George wanted to get involved in his shop again. It had been, apparently, months since he had even left the house, let alone worked. This was a major improvement, and would have made anyone incredibly cheerful.

Finding George's eyes from far down the table she leaned forward to see him better and excitedly nodded. He smiled at her, and she grinned largely back, before continuing to eat her meal. She didn't even think about the fact that he would soon retaliate with his own prank until long after breakfast was over.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

It was getting so near April. Hermione felt more and more guilt increasingly as the date grew closer and closer. She had been living at the Burrow for quite a while now, roughly four months, and it was getting horribly pathetic. She needed a job more than anything. Beyond that, she actually wanted to live on her own, go to work, have an income and not just rely on the award money the Ministry had given her.

She woke up early on March fifteenth, just a few days after Ginny's visit, and vowed to herself to move out by April fifteenth, exactly one month away. This would give her time to get used to her job, to get her first pay check, and to find a place to live. It also allowed her to be at the Burrow on April Fools Day, which was also, appropriately, George's 21st birthday.

Hermione wanted to be there more than she really realized. She wanted to give him a gift for the first time, to celebrate not only his birthday but the odd holiday, if he wanted to. Also, she felt that she needed to be there, in case he was not happy, in case all he thought of was Fred. They were twins, so this wasn't only a day for George, and she didn't want him to feel horribly alone if she did leave. It felt wrong.

But all of that could wait. First, Hermione needed to get herself a job. The Ministry job obviously didn't work out, she didn't even need to ask. No other jobs were really open doing anything she'd be even slightly willing to do. Not even a receptionist position in the Ministry. She didn't know of any law firms or organizations she could apply to, so there was no hope in a job like that. In fact, the only job she knew of, was offered to her last July, just after the war.

This job, however, was working under Draco Malfoy. Not a horrible job, she was sure, and maybe not even with a horrible boss, and Malfoy seemed to really have changed, even in two months. She had randomly bumped into him one day in Diagon Alley, literally knocking into his shoulder. It was one of Hermione's oddest experiences...

"Oh, I'm sorry." Malfoy had said as their shoulder's touched. At the same moment they realized who the other was, and Hermione stiffened. She expected it to be taken back, or to be called a name, but the blonde simply looked astonished. "Granger! How have you been?"

This threw her off from her glaring and she dumbly blinked. "Um, just fine, I suppose." She spoke with defense obvious in her voice, dare he try anything.

"Good. Good." Malfoy seemed nervous to state it, rubbing the back of his neck. It was in such a way that reminded her slightly of Ron as he stumbled over his words. "Well, I realize this is probably bollocks of me, but, just in case, if you need a job I just started my own little business. It's um, really the only thing I can think of to make up for all the crap things I've done..."

Keeping her posture strong, Hermione wouldn't let him see how surprised and almost _sympathetic_ she felt towards him now. "Oh? What kind of business?" She asked hotly.

Malfoy looked down at her, then away again, watching the people walking up and down Diagon Alley. "It's, I guess, an animal reserve. I, um, house magical creatures. I always really liked that class, even though I acted like-"

"A horribly stuck up, egotistical, loathsome brat?" Hermione offered crudely the moment he hesitated. "Even though Hagrid, the_ oaf_ you detested, taught it?"

A dark look crossed over his face. "I've already apologized profusely to him since the war ended, and I've been forgiven. He even helps me out now and again, Hagrid." Draco pointed out in a tone that suggested he was trying not to yell. "Well, I really just wanted to tell you that the job is always open. If you ever needed it. Sorry to bother you."

Then Malfoy had walked off. Then, Hermione swore to never even think of taking the job, but now that she had been living with her best friend's family for a few months, it was incredibly appealing.

This in mind, as Hermione got up she set out to owl Draco Malfoy. She wrote a short message, with her elegantly flourished signature decorating the bottom.

_"Malfoy,  
>Is that job offer still on the table? I'm afraid I'm desperate.<br>~Hermione Granger" _

She sent the parchment off with Pig, who seemed excited to have a job to do and flew out of the Burrow in a crooked, over zealous manner. Satisfied with herself, Hermione went to her room briefly to grab a book. She decided upon a collection of Sherlock Holmes tales, and then happily skipped back down stairs. Reading the wonderful, intelligent mysteries, she sat by the open window she had sent Pig out of and waited for a response.

Hermione was so involved in the book that she didn't notice Arthur leave. She had accidentally ignored Ron, who was off to the joke shop, and only managed to grunt a farewell to Harry, who was going to Auror training for the day. At least her friends were understanding, that once she was reading there was hardly any stopping her. In fact, Hermione didn't stop reading until a large hand covered her book.

"Huh?" She very inadequately questioned at the interruption. It was George who disturbed her, staring down at her with a bit of a smile. "Morning, George."

He nodded at her and then smirked lightly. "It's noon." He informed the girl.

This surprised her, and Hermione jumped, shoving her knees into the couch and leaning over the back of it to peer out the window. George chuckled at her. "What are you waiting for?"

"Pig! I sent a letter this morning." Hermione explained to him, hoping desperately to see a little black dot of an owl in the distance. Shouldn't she have gotten a reply by now?

The Weasley man let her search for a moment before crossing his arms over his chest nonchalantly. "Pig's in the kitchen, I just gave him some bread."

Once again she jumped, this time launching off the couch and into the kitchen. The pesky little owl was perched on the oven, picking at a large slice of bread that was nearly bigger than he was. Hermione looked at his feet, hoping to see a letter, but there was nothing tied there. She looked around, on the stove and floor, before finding an envelope on the far end of the table.

With unexpected vigor, she opened the letter and slipped out the bit of parchment inside. It was indeed the letter that she had been waiting for, as she vaguely recognized Draco Malfoy's handwriting. "Pig, you silly owl, you're supposed to bring this to me." She told the small bird before reading the response.

_"Granger,  
><em>_The job is yours. Can you start tomorrow, as we are quite busy? I can meet you at the Leaky Cauldron at seven thirty if this is acceptable.  
><em>_Draco Malfoy"_

Before her excitement could get the best of her, Hermione searched the kitchen for a scrap of paper and was pleased that she had put a muggle pen in her pocket. She wrote a quick, nearly scribbled acceptance before giving it to Pig. Always liking a job, nearly more than food, the small owl immediately forgot about the ed, which was now in three pieces due to his pecking.

Then Hermione proceeded to jumped up and down much like her twelve year old self would have, cheering happily. She had completely forgotten where she was and who, possibly, could see her, so when she turned around, still jumping, she froze as she saw George. He simply stood in the door way, mouth pressed into a thin line though it was evident that he was holding back amusement, and he raised his eyebrows at her odd reaction.

"I got a job!" She said defensively, as though it explained all of her childish actions. Sure, that was a valid reason, but most people didn't usually jump and cheer after sending an owl, they would have cheered first.

He gave her one slow nod. "Congratulations. Now go back to jumping, I was enjoying that."

Letting out a surprised, somewhat amused, squeak, Hermione threw her pen at him. "Don't be so crude!" She huffed and stormed past him, purposefully hitting his shoulder.

George, however, didn't let her move much farther forward than that, grabbing her around the waist and knocking her feet out of under her. Hermione shrieked thinking she would fall, but he held her up, just above the floor. This was a bit more embarrassing than being caught acting like a child, and she went red. Especially as George began to tickle her.

"No! STOP IT! George!" She squeaked and tried to wiggle away. She managed to make him let go, only falling onto her hands and knees, but his hands followed.

She was laughing against her will, and since he wouldn't listen she grabbed his hand and pulled him down. Now that he was laying on the floor, slightly surprised himself, she had the height advantage and began to tickle him. George, however, wasn't going to let her win this one for long, and snaked his hands up to her sides even as he laughed. Both trying to not be tickled, and tickle the other, it was like awkward wrestling on the floor as the moved and attacked, laughing the entire time.

Only when Hermione got incredibly breathless and had both hands on the floor as she panted did George stop his full on assault. "Jerk." She teasingly said and shoved one of her hands into his face as she got up.

Still, even after insulting him, she did put out her hand to help George to his feet. He took it and let Hermione pull on him even though he mostly got up on his own. Then he ruffled her hair like a child and jumped away as Hermione tried to hit him. As he bolted up the stairs, she took chase, and their games continued.

* * *

><p>Harry and Ron got home at the same time that day. Hermione, after a couple hours bothering George, was back to reading her nearly forgotten book, but excitedly put it down so that she could greet her friends with a hug. Both of them received very tight embraces, in fact, and it was the slightest bit confusing. Obviously something <em>good<em> happened, as Hermione was never one to act differently if nothing had changed.

She didn't keep them guessing long. "I got a job today." She confessed.

"Good! Congratulations, 'Mione!" Harry told her and gave her another, brief hug. He at least seemed incredibly excited for her, in all honesty.

Ron, however groaned. "Are you sure that your boss isn't another arse?" He lectured her, still claiming the side of his mind that didn't want her to get a job and move out.

At the question, Hermione actually scoffed. How to answer, that was the real question. "Of course my boss is an arse, that's a bosses job." She claimed, knowing it wasn't entirely the correct position to take on this matter, but it was an answer to please Ron.

Anything was better than telling him that her boss was going to be the changed, but well known arse, Draco Malfoy.

"Anyway, I start tomorrow morning, which mean I'll be able to move out in one months time." Hermione held up her slim pointer finger to emphasize what she was saying. She had already told Molly all this earlier that day, so there was nothing to stop her.

Especially not Ron, who was already complaining. "You don't have to move, I told you that two weeks ago." He tried to ease her, assure her that there was no need to go anywhere.

"Well I'm moving no matter what." She lifted her chin in pride. No matter what he thought she would follow through with her plans, because this was her happiness she was trying to achieve, not a plan to please Ron. "Now come on, Ronald, you were perfectly fine before I moved in, and will be fine after I move out."

He gave her a classic look, the kind that lacked a certain intelligence. "Well, when you put it that way, yeah, but... We all like having you here, 'Mione." He told her. "Especially me. Especially George."

Oblivious, Ron didn't notice Hermione's slight blush as he mentioned his older brother. Harry, however, did, just slightly. "Did he ever talk to you?" Hermione asked Ron, quickly changing the subject from the topic of moving.

"Yeah, he did." Ron smiled goofily. Obviously it had been a chat he was fond of. "He told me that you told him your "darkest secret" if he talked to me. What did you tell him?"

She went a bit more red and waved her hand through the air dismissively. "Oh, you two know everything about me. I'm sure you can figure it out." Hermione dodged around the actual question, and had to come up with yet another topic before she embarrassed herself further. "How about a game of chess before dinner? You two can play and I'll watch."

The boys found her behavior slightly odd, but it had been a long time since they played chess together, probably not since the game on Christmas. And, honestly, they enjoyed the game. It gave them a lot of time to fool around without talking about their days, or work, or grown up life in general.

* * *

><p>Later that night Hermione knocked on George's door. It had been a couple nights since she last did so, not since the night before her prank. As George opened the door she held up the tin she was holding with a smile.<p>

"Chocolate chip?" She offered as though the temptation would be just to much, as if without such a bribe she wouldn't be allowed to come into George's room.

He chuckled. His laugh's were coming more easily as days went by and it made everyone in the house glad, if they noticed. They still didn't know anything that went on truly between George and Hermione, but at least things were changing. At least the living twin was learning that he could still be happy.

George let Hermione in. "If you keep bribing me with food, we'll both get fat." He teased the girl and poked her small, yet quite soft and poke-able side.

"Oh, please. This isn't a bribe, it's a sacrifice, so you don't go after me instead." She mocked and put the tin on George's bed as he occupied half of it. "I'm going to go get milk, you want any?"

George shook his head, he never really liked the thought of a soggy cookie, or even the taste of milk, really. Smiling either way, Hermione excused herself and glided through the Burrow, still on a natural high from her excitement of a new job she was in her own world partially, which is why whe didn't notice that she wasn't the only one in the kitchen until Ron said her name.

"Hey, Hermione. What you doing?" He asked once he had her attention, speaking around a forkful of cake. His last bite, judging by the nearly clean plate.

She gestured to the inside of the fridge as she opened it. "Getting milk?" She laughed lightly, wondering if her had a problem with what she was doing.

Ron only nodded and slipped his plate into the sink. As Hermione poured the milk he moved next to her. "You really don't have to move out, Hermione." She spoke quietly, leaning against the table with his hip.

"But I can't live here forever. Even you are bound to move out soon, Ronald." She rolled her eyes, now just going through the motions of telling him that yes, she was moving out, no matter what. He had asked her not to far too much.

"Yeah, but then you could move in with me." He suggested playfully, tapping her arm. Hermione put the milk away before looking at him.

"And why would I move in with you? I want to eventually be on my own, maybe even get married and have kids, you know." She meant it in a light tone, that she did eventually want to move on, thinking he would understand. She had a desire to date, to find someone, and with Ron constantly at her side this was far from possible. He would get jealous or upset, the other man would get jealous or upset.

Not incredibly offended or even understanding, Ron stepped forward and placed a warm hand on the side of Hermione's face. "Why can't you do those things with me?"

Before Hermione could react, and her first reaction was to laugh, Ron had leaned far too close, then all the way in and shocked her into silence. Her best friend of eight years was kissing her. Really kissing her, holding her by her shoulders and pressing his lips against hers in a bruising way. Tears pricked her eyes and there was a horrible constriction in her chest.

Finding her mind, Hermione shoved Ron away from her and automatically her hand went up and she smacked him. "Hermione! Come on, we're meant for each other." Ron angrily tried to drill into her, reaching for her again.

She dodged him, and only after she opened her mouth to speak did she realize that she was full on sobbing. "N-no. Don't touch me. Don't even touch me." She cried and turned to the living room, running away from her friend.

Simpy putting it, she was in utter disbelief that he would do such a thing. But nothing was simple. Especially if she really couldn't notice that Ron was feeling this way, even after George, and even Ginny last year, had told her so much. It was denial, she felt, she didn't want to believe it because she could never feel the same way. It wouldn't feel right, it didn't feel right when he kissed her.

She fully meant to go into her own room, to just hide behind a locked door. Instead she somehow managed to mix up the doors, or subconsciously wanted company, because Hermione ended up in George's room, closing the door behind her and leaning heavily against it. With shaking, weak hands that she would never pride herself on, she wiped at her wet cheeks and turned away from George.

"Sorry. I'm sorry." Hermione blubbered uselessly as George jumped up from his bed upon her entry. He ignored everything she said and cautiously approached.

For the past ten months George had been the one comforted, so he felt awkward doing the comforting. It seemed odd up to the very moment that he wrapped his arms around Hermione. After a moment of tense standing, hoping she'd calm, he felt warm holding her against his chest, relaxed slightly. Hermione's breathing calmed and as her slight sobs turned silent, he pressed his cheek against the top of her head. Both of them were too involved to hear Ron knocking on the door across the hall, whispering Hermione's name in search of her.


End file.
